What You Are
by Miki-Death-Strike
Summary: Because nice girls finish last too. Because the mysteries of an imagined romance can hurt paper hearts. That is what lies behind confusion and what many think to be love. A short novelette, spanning about 5 chapters.
1. Chapter I

Author's Note: I'd like to say that my inspiration for this fic is solely due to Asahi's likeness to my own disposition. I suppose that is why I like her so much as a character. We'll see how this short piece will play out!

**What You Are**

Chapter I

Today wasn't so different. As usual, Asahi found herself fulfilling her own perpetual prophecy. It was her predetermined affinity for tomfoolery that faded into the background and became a natural part of her daily, uneventful life. Finally, after a year of ritually duping herself, she'd become used to the hopeless and annoying feeling. Simply put, today, or any other day, would never be any different.

After her classes, Asahi marched on down to the local, but popular Siggy restaurant, reminding herself that if she wanted Grad school to be a possibility in her future, she needed to collect the extra money now. It was what kept her going on Brutal Tuesday's, when she was downright exhausted but still needed to study after such a long shift to pass her complicated exams.

The people at Siggy were snooty, the children were messy, and people who lived in Tokyo were just plain impatient. She was on the go at the top, and bottom, of the hour, washing dishes, cleaning spills, backing up the new waiters and waitresses, _and _training a new employee.

But, her work was made bearable by the one and only Shinogu Narita. He was the culprit, the reason for her prophecy fulfilling itself each day, over and over again. Because of him, Asahi was lovesick, like the hapless girl she'd been in highschool, who'd liked, or loved a jerk and learned her lesson or whatever. Shinogu, of course, was different. He was the nice guy, the kind that bought in coffee because he knew she needed the energy boost after a half day of classes. He was the considerate one who walked with her to the train station before they split paths and headed home.

For a change, Asahi wanted a nice—and handsome—guy to ogle over. And she'd found him. They'd met in college, when they were freshman. Then, she'd been blinded, overlooking, because the best romances were supposed to be immediate. Shinogu had been hot, and still was, but he wasn't the bad boy of every girl's fantasies. He was the _nice guy_, the one whose gestures could easily be misread and taken as gestures of love . . . or like. It was why Asahi was careful, and why her caution made a fool out of her. She was constantly battling between brushing off his actions as nothing more than being a good friend and the other side where she believed that somewhere, he _did_ care for her, more than on the basis of being friends.

"Here you go," Shinogu suddenly said. Asahi turned sharply, hoping he hadn't seen her spaced out while taking her sweet time to remove her jacket.

Today was no different because he had her coffee, two creams, one pack of sugar. Shinogu was being considerate again, on Brutal Tuesday, and there she was, reliably fumbling over the gesture.

His dark mane of hair, cut to crop his face, was slightly wet underneath the white, cotton hat. He looked simply adorable, freshly showered and all bundled up to escape the winter cold.

"Thanks," Asahi said, reaching up to grab the Styrofoam cup. He warned her of the coffee's obvious hot temperature, but Asahi figured it was the big brother in him that urged him to protect her, nothing more. It took her a while to remember that one.

More employees began to flow into the kitchen, holding trays filled with dirty plates and utensils. While the first quarter waiters hurried to timeout from their finished shifts, others began checking in.

Then, Asahi and Shinogu would part to their respective duties after about ten minutes of organizing themselves over coffee.

"Asahi!" shouted Mr. Hajime. He was short, plump, and in charge, barking out orders since his new promotion. "Get those dishes in the steamer now! They've been in the water since you started!"

"Yes, sir!" Asahi answered, tired of his exaggerations. She hated when people made her sound lazy.

"And when you're done with that, table two is waiting for their bill!" Mr. Hajime was gone through the double door, taking with him the monstrous sound of clatter and talking from the patrons outside.

Quickly, Asahi went to work cleaning the last set of dishes, placing them neatly into their tray to be brought over to the steamer. She moved to the middle of the kitchen, routinely maneuvering through her co-workers as they scattered and raced to get where they needed to go. She simply tuned out the clamorous sound of hard work, struggling to get the heavy tray over. When that was done, Asahi ran to get table two's bill.

"Hey, love bird! Don't work too hard out there," shouted Shuji. Asahi gave him a flat, playful look. He always teased her about Shinogu and her girly feelings toward him, saying everyone in Tokyo knew about her not-so-secret crush. Though he lived with Shinogu, Shuji never betrayed Asahi to him.

"Right," Asahi replied before heading out into the sea of costumers. The smell of everyday pasta and other foods on the menu blended in so much that Asahi could barely tell the difference anymore. Since working at Siggy's, she learned to be quick on her feet, to smile all the time, and to put the needs of the costumers' before her own. Those tasks weren't too hard since those skills were already hardwired into Asahi, especially the latter trait. It was something she and Shinogu had in common.

Shinogu never thought of himself when it came to others, especially his family, and Asahi wasted most of their short-lived conversations on reminding him that he too was human and needed help from those he loved. Not even Asahi could take care of herself completely when she was entirely honest with herself. Her mother still payed half of her cellphone bill. For Shinogu to run himself to the ground, working three part-time jobs while attending college on the pretenses of becoming independent and less of a burden, made Asahi more than worried.

She hadn't even known why he was so driven to be on his own until a few months ago.

All of the time she had known him, Shinogu wasn't a Narita after all, he'd been adopted. She'd overheard Azusa and him discussing his annulment documents that would remove him from being the legal son of the Narita's. Even then, the notion of it all was a bit too drastic in the name of being independent. She'd stuck around long enough for the snake to bite her, to sink its venomous fangs right into her heart.

Not only was Shinogu working hard to be free, he was also in love with his younger sister, Harumi. He could perform all of the nicest gestures in the world for Asahi, but all along, he'd been in love with his kid sister. Though they weren't related, his reasonable discomfort was the cause for his wanting to leave the Narita's. It was why he overlooked Asahi, why Harumi's dating Ryoki bothered him, why he took care of Harumi so much.

When she'd found out while eavesdropping in the hallway before going back to her apartment, a huge hole had been blown into her chest. It hurt like hell, and she felt stupid, pitiful, and just . . . sour. She couldn't compete with him loving a girl he'd known since he was very young. The whole idea sounded twisted to her, and probably to Shinogu, even, but there was real truth in having no say in whom one loved.

Shinogu had caught her snooping, and at that point, Asahi couldn't hold it in any longer. She'd burst out in uncontrollable tears, promising to say nothing to anyone. Silently promising to herself to put the foolish romance she envisioned aside for good. Of course, even after hearing the news and months later, she still dreamed of their perfect romance. There was no harm in it, as long as he didn't know. She wanted him to be happy, with no more amorous complications.

At least since her mishap, Shinogu now looked to her as a sort of confidant . . . kind of. He asked her about what certain things girls liked in a rude, careless, controlling guy. Or why girls fell for the bad ones. Of course, the questions stemmed from his concern, and possible jealousy of Harumi dating Ryoki, but Asahi brushed it off and answered his questions with the best answers possible, like a dummy.

She was no love guru in the least bit. There were no love potions or remedies up _her_ sleeve, she was plain old Asahi, who got hurt, trampled over, and who worked hard. That was all to her. At face value, she and Shinogu sounded one in the same, and maybe that was their problem to begin with. They weren't opposite enough. . . .

"Excuse me, ma'am. . . ." Asahi looked up from the round tray jabbed into her side. She was looking over the bill, making sure everything was right. "The other waitress didn't come out with my daughter's dessert yet." Inwardly sighing, Asahi smiled.

"I'll get right on that, ma'am. I apologize for the inconvenience," Asahi heard herself say. The new waitress she was training messed up again.

Turning on her heel, Asahi came face first into Shinogu, jutting her tray into his stomach. His arm carrying a full plate of food went crashing all around them, in a chorus of breaking glass and porcelain. People gasped, screamed, and stopped. It took Asahi seconds she didn't have to register what had just happened.

The two of them, Shinogu and her, were covered in spaghetti sauces, salad dressing, and soft drinks, looking down at the mess she'd created. He was the first to respond, as usual.

"I'll get it," he announced, immediately heading toward the kitchen. Asahi stood there, like a fool, watching as the edible mess mixed with each other, producing some mutant superfood bent on destroying Asahi's life.

"Me too!" she said to no one.

When she entered the kitchen, Mr. Hajime was already on her back, yelling for her to clean up the mess while the cooks had to work overtime to get table five their overdue meals. Even Shinogu took the unfair heat. Asahi held back her humiliation and disorientation, but the additional energy came in the form of shaky hands and constant apologies.

* * *

><p>Asahi made it through Brutal Tuesday with her job still intact. However, Mr. Hajime expressed his anger clear enough by cutting her hours for next week and putting her on shutdown duty. So she swept, mopped, put away the dishes, cleaned the tables, and ignored her stained hair and uniform. When it was time to go, the clock read 12:15 a.m.<p>

She said goodbye to Shuji, the only other co-worker she liked, and left. Putting on her jacket helped Asahi feel her achy muscles and sore ankles. All she wanted was sleep.

Outside, the cold, hard air, shoved its way into her lungs, refreshing the dry and stagnant oxygen she'd gotten from inside Siggy. She huddled into her jacket, pulling her scarf so that it could at least cover her mouth.

Shinogu still waited for her by the left brick wall that held the potted, decorative plants. He would have helped, but Mr. Hajime hated when he went over his hours.

Asahi tossed him a guilt-ridden, sad smile, and he lifted himself from off the wall. Together, they began their seven-minute walk to the train station. On long nights like these, Shuji usually took Asahi home, if he didn't have his other job to work.

"I'm so sorry, Shinogu," Asahi said again. She clamped her gloved hands into her hair, wondering how she could have been so slow and stupid. "Ugh!"

"Don't worry about it. It wasn't that bad," he replied. But she knew he was lying to make her feel better. His hair still smelled of orange soda and pickles. But she smelled worse.

"It was," Asahi complained. The scene kept replaying in her head, shocking her every time, and curdling her blood. "It was really bad."

"We both have our jobs still, you know how Mr. Hajime can get. . . ."

"Thank God," Asahi said. She wondered how he'd react if Harumi had taken her place. By now, he would certainly have his arm around Harumi, to cheer her up in his protective embrace. The image killed Asahi every time.

"You've got a final tomorrow, right?" Shinogu asked. He kicked a piece of pebble and it went skidding off into the road.

Surprised, Asahi nodded. He never remembered stuff like that. "It's an all nighter for me," she informed. If she grabbed another coffee and an energy drink for the latter part of the morning, she'd be okay.

"What, really? That's not good," Shinogu warned. Their walk reminded Asahi of the time they'd spent in college a few years ago. Sometimes, they'd aimlessly walk around campus to take a break from studying together, engaged in animated conversation. But those days were gone, Shinogu wanted to grow up, to move on from loving Harumi, and Asahi didn't know how to behave after learning of his predicament.

"You're not one to talk, Shinogu," Asahi teased. "You work three jobs, so I don't want to hear it." They shared a simple laugh.

"Seriously, though, take it easy. You'll turn into a psycho," Shinogu said.

"You're such a big brother," Asahi said. Her heart began to pound. Mentioning anything remotely related to his true heritage was a huge no-no for Asahi. She was walking on foreign, possibly volatile land, where things grew weird and distant, where Shinogu was someone else.

"I take care of my own," he replied, giving her a friendly shove in the arm. It was what younger brother and sisters did, what lovers did. Maybe his gestures, that could easily be blurred, tricked him into believing that he was in love with Harumi. Maybe all he really needed was a girl that could sweep him off of _his _feet.

The train station was in view, with its familiar buzz. Asahi didn't want their walk to end.

"By the way, do you need help studying?" Shinogu was always nice, too nice to Asahi. It made her heart wither, black and lifeless.

"No way, get some sleep, Superman," Asahi said. She dismissed his offer, feeling guilty enough. His help would allow her to get through the chemistry material faster, but Asahi couldn't. Shinogu was tired, she couldn't ignore his baggy eyes.

"Come on, I'll just test you for a little bit," Shinogu offered. "It'll be your payment for what happened."

"Helping me is my payment?" Asahi questioned dubiously. She learned that this was his nice guy gesture. He always liked lending his intelligence.

"I want to talk to you about something, anyway." He turned away uncomfortably.

Here it came. Shinogu's hour of concern over Harumi. It'd become the headline of their walk and the motivation behind stealing minutes out of the day to hang out. It was Asahi's fault though, making herself so readily available to always listen to Shinogu's never-ending problems. He'd replace Harumi's name with some made up girl's name, but Asahi was well versed in the way of the typical nice guy and saw right through his guise. It had taken her and Shinogu time to get back to talking somewhat regularly since Asahi's eavesdropping escapade. She welcomed the returning normalcy, but the lovesick side of her hated it.

"Is it Seiko, again?" Asahi asked, playing right into his hand. Shinogu simply nodded, and she gave him her best waitress smile. "Oh, boy."

"Thanks, Asahi. . . ."

Today was no different. It never was. Here she was, fooling around, being made a fool of, and allowing it to happen, like a fool. They'd talk at her apartment over tea, he'd leave when he was satisfied, and she'd sit in her room in silence, listening to her throbbing heart and unforgiving thoughts.

She wanted Shinogu to catch her while she fell for him more and more each day, but he was too nice in his cruelty. Instead of catching Asahi, he bought her coffee and warned her to take care of herself because he knew no one else would do what he did. And what he did was entrap her heart because he was brotherly.

Because he was too nice.


	2. Chapter II

**What You Are**

_crossing through the gray area requires a better hand_  
><em>than one is born with, <em>  
><em>if one wasn't born with the silver spoon-<em>  
><em>it requires those things found necessary to survive<em>

_-andrew delapruch_

Chapter II

The half hour train ride to the company housing district was a familiar mental detour for Shinogu. After all, he'd been taking this train home for years before he and Shuji decided to move and rent out an apartment to split the cost. On most days, he'd sleep through the everyday, concrete boulevard scenery because back then, and even now, school and keeping a steady job meant bedtime anytime Shinogu wasn't attending either. Shinogu found the train to be a sort of lullaby to heal the long and draining day's damage—the rhythmic continuity of going and stopping, along bumpy tracks, and underneath dark tunnels that let out into the suburbs.

Asahi too looked dead tired as she unconsciously shut her eyes for a brief moment, only to be disturbed by another short stop into the next platform. Her body was unable to maintain balance so she crashed into Shinogu's chest, then quickly came away, awkwardly apologizing. The clumsiness reminded Shinogu so much of Hatsumi. How he'd clamp a protective arm on his younger sister's shoulder to steady her, trying not to think much of it. Even back then, Shinogu had been uncertain, catapulted out of a normal teenage life. He couldn't distinguish between whether or not his protective hand on Hatsumi was an act of possessiveness, or if he was just being an older brother, and he struggled with that unwanted confusion nearly all of his life.

It had always been Hatsumi, Akane, little Subaru, and Shinogu, together on the train ride back home from Takazono highschool. Asahi was there too whenever she wasn't interning after school, and they'd all laugh and joke, oblivious to the swarm of people around them, engulfed in a complete bubble of youthful hindsight. No one knew, or wanted to know what awaited them in the future, it was always easier to wait and just live _through_ it, but for Shinogu, it had been difficult, extremely difficult.

Being in love with Hatsumi, struggling to convince himself that what he felt could be justified because she wasn't his actual sister, left Shinogu in conflicting pieces, pieces he could use to create a complicated mock happiness for everyone else. Those years hadn't been fun at all, which was why he escaped through those harsh, unending hours at work and school, why he moved out, and why he sometimes found himself back at Hatsumi's apartment complex all over again—without thinking, without seeing ahead.

But Asahi made Shinogu's predicament much easier. She listened. Asahi listened to him go on about Seiko, the mystery girl he'd fathomed up as a little secret to himself to somehow stay connected to Hatsumi. It was an old, pathetic schoolboy-crush trick that Asahi hadn't figured out yet, or at least Shinogu didn't think she did. The mystery girl gave him more of an excuse to mull over his emotions with the added advice from someone else. From Asahi. He couldn't forget that she'd overheard his mortifying confessional about his feelings toward Hatsumi, and the fact that she still stuck around him, still kept his secret, meant that Asahi wasn't one to judge. He figured she'd just accepted it just like that, like always.

"Our stop's almost here, thank goodness," Asahi breathed out.

"_Our_?" Shinogu pointed out and she smiled.

"Still living in the past I guess," she laughed.

Asahi took in another whiff of her uniform sleeve and the slight aroma of Pepsi traveled into Shinogu's nostrils. He'd almost forgotten that the two of them were living, breathing trashcans from the mess they'd made at Siggy's. It was probably why people were staring.

"Shinogu, you really don't have to help me study. You could be back at your own apartment, showering by now," Asahi whined. Together they moved to the opening doors, waiting for the mechanical voice of the train operator to finish his unloading orders. "It's really late anyway. . . ."

"What? You have something to hide?" he asked, realizing the unintentional irony. The feeling of guilt crept up on him, but he did nothing to betray his sudden change of mood.

"No," Asahi let out, as if she was a child giving away no clue. "I just feel bad."

Something occurred to Shinogu right then. A few people brushed past the two to get off of the train, knocking him and Asahi around, and in that instant moment, Shinogu's left hand automatically found its way to Asahi's arm, pressing it into her side, steadying her. He stammered a little, and when all was right, they unmounted the train and began the walk into the complex.

Something wasn't right. Shinogu wasn't supposed to react like that around Asahi, so overprotective, so thoughtless. Nor so brotherly. The confusion threw him off track again. He'd been robotic just like when he used to ride the train with Hatsumi, only now, Asahi's replacement felt one in the same. Again, the pictures blurred, the snapshot faded.

"What's the matter?" Asahi asked.

She spun around, taking note to his sudden pause. Shinogu wondered if Asahi felt normal about everything, if she had no questions that maybe his big-brother persona was really all there was to him. She constantly told him that he acted brotherly towards her too much. But was that all she thought? An abrupt pang attacked Shinogu at the thought of experimenting, of being selfish for a bit. What _would_ Asahi do if she became Hatsumi in his eyes, if she was the center of Shinogu's incessant, intruding feelings. His confusion would certainly go away because then, he could differentiate the feeling of love from being a big brother if it was directed toward another woman, one he hadn't grown up with. Shinogu could _move on _if things became clear for him again, if he changed his line of focus.

But he didn't want to think of Asahi as just a subject, a prospect for his little science experiment. It was wrong.

The elevator ride was silent because both of them could barely keep their eyes open. When Shinogu did look over to Asahi, he caught her staring at him for a brief second, but then her lashes fluttered downward to the marble floor. Maybe she was wondering why he'd been spacey today, or was she still uneasy about him coming over? Shinogu couldn't tell, and it made him want to tread in her mysterious mind.

The two exited the elevator and by the time they reached her apartment, fifth to the left, the clock on Shinogu's cellphone read 1:04 a.m.

"Subaru's probably sleeping already, that little nerd," Asahi laughed quietly. She pulled from her purse the door key and slowly opened the entrance as to not wake anyone.

Inside, the apartment was quaint and filled with the things that made up the Yagi's. Asahi's mother was into interior design, which explained the jungle-themed television stand and mirror that Shinogu always wondered about. All around were pictures of the three: Asahi, Subaru, and their mother at all stages of life, plastered onto the wall in frames. The fridge in the kitchen had little Gundam magnets that Subaru always collected.

"You can wash up in the bathroom, I'll get you a towel." Asahi was already on the move to the bathroom, so Shinogu simply took off his jacket and stuffed his smelly hat into one of the pockets. When Asahi came back with the towel, she relieved him of his coat to hang it up.

The bathroom was definitely dominated by girls. The walls were a floral pink and purple, the shower curtain was a golden sheet of glittering plastic, and the small, square floor was covered with a single strip of white fur. Shinogu could smell Asahi's perfume wafting through. He went to work cleaning his face and hair, and when he was done, he came from the bathroom, removing his socks and the red vest he was required to wear. Asahi was in the kitchen brewing coffee.

"You want some?" she asked.

"Sure."

And she knew just how he liked it.

* * *

><p>Something fresh and warm traveled to Shinogu and before he realized he'd been sleeping, he popped from Asahi's couch. She was bent over the small glass coffee table, flipping through the pages of her textbook and notes, scratching her ankle with her toes. She smiled at him and nodded toward the coffee on the other end of the table.<p>

"Relax, you weren't asleep long," she said. Asahi seemed to have perked up immediately after drinking her own share of coffee.

"Really?" Shinogu asked.

His long body came around from over the seats of the couch and he slinked down to the floor to sit on the pillow across from Asahi.

"Sorry about that," Asahi, as usual, brushed his apology aside. "What are you studying?"

"Advanced statistics," she answered.

Asahi was all about fashion and beauty, and she wanted to run her very own spa and beauty parlor, which was why she was working so hard to get into Grad school. Advanced statistics, from what Shinogu remembered, was never an easy subject for her, but it was required for her bachelor's degree in Business Marketing and Management.

"Let's see the problem," Shinogu offered. Asahi handed over the mock questions that would be used on the test, blowing into her own coffee cup.

As he looked on, immediately making sense of the numbers and symbols and where Asahi had messed up and why she had, Shinogu couldn't understand why logical, black and white problems couldn't escape his analyzing eyes—ever. Why were emotions and life so complicated? Because it wasn't tangible, because it was so abstract with no set rule, nor any set answers? Was the way Shinogu's world operated really that indeterminate . . . that gray?

Shinogu remembered Asahi asking that very same question, but she hadn't been expecting an answer from him.

"You are who or what you are," he'd said. "Both black and white . . . or gray. It's life, and we're just helpless, I guess." That answer was so much more easier to understand if he pretended that he couldn't relate.

Shinogu rearranged the numbers and added in some notes for Asahi to follow. When she got a hold of her questions, she sighed, computing her errors. Her hand moved up to her freshly showered hair, twirling a short strand around her painted fingernails. She was in concentration mode, brows furrowed, body compact and kneeling over her work. Her coffee was cooling because it no longer steamed. And Shinogu watched her. All of her familiar mannerisms, her out-loud thinking, nibbling on the top of her pen, wiggling about when she was stuck on a problem, how much alike she was to him. He'd always been aware of Asahi, but he'd gotten to really know her in college freshman year.

She was the girl constantly on the move, working and going to class, working and studying, working and sleeping, just like Shinogu. She was meek at first and dedicated, like him. Her mother was barely home, like his father. She was there for Subaru, and Shinogu was there for his family. It was probably why they clicked so well, and why she understood without asking any further questions Shinogu's determination to move out of the complex completely. He didn't want to be a burden.

Asahi's hand slowly came away from her hair, leaving her bangs to dangle freely. She didn't seem to notice as she crossed out another mistake, so Shinogu reached over to remove those dark strands of hair from her forehead. It was a simple enough gesture, one that even he could tell wasn't just brotherly. It sat right on the border between experimental flirting and an easy cover-up. Depending on Asahi's reaction, he'd go with the former, just for understanding.

She didn't really _do_ anything about it at first, which wasn't what Shinogu expected. But then, Asahi frantically raised her head, feeling around her hair and wearing a very concerned expression.

"Is there something in it? Oh no, more spaghetti?" Asahi fretted. She was ready to bolt to the bathroom, but Shinogu laughed, staying her.

"I just felt like doing it," he answered. "Keep studying."

Slowly, she returned to focusing back on her work, but not before looking at Shinogu quizzically, as if she was so close to discovering his experiment and that she was its subject. Shinogu sat back then, inwardly sighing. He looked beyond Asahi, past the hall, past the apartment, back to a place he'd almost been selfish in before. He'd been so close to telling Hatsumi how he felt once, and things would have been so much more easier. But he hadn't, and he didn't know why. He couldn't come up with a reason for holding back, only that at the end, right before any of those three words could be blurted out, he thought of Hatsumi's feelings and what she'd have to deal with already. It'd been wrong and right on all sides, directly in the gray.

The slight grin that curved Asahi's lips was something Shinogu was sure was accidental on her part, but he was intrigued by it nevertheless. Had _he_ made her smile just now? Why was her pen dotting the paper underneath, stuck in a weird, repetitive motion, and why were her cheeks rosy, painting the faded freckles on her nose?

". . . You, uh, haven't said anything about Seiko yet, how come?" Asahi asked, her eyes glued to her textbook. Shinogu grinned. Asahi was deliberately reminding him of the mystery girl he was supposed to be in love with.

"I think she might be a thing of the past now," he answered, cowering at such an unlikely possibility. Could he forget Hatsumi?

"Oh? Why so sudden?" Asahi asked. She dropped her pen for another sip of her coffee.

Shinogu pulled back his hair, unsure of what to say next, or if he even wanted to say anything.

"I don't know. I guess she's moved on."

"From what?"

"From whatever prevented her from moving on in the first place."

"Huh?"

Shinogu drank his own coffee, trying hard to look as normal as possible as the scorching liquid burned his esophagus.

"I mean, she's found someone else. . . ."

Asahi's eyes saddened.

"That's always tough," she said.

"Always," Shinogu agreed. "But new doors open up too."

"I'm liking the positivity here. It's not really you though," Asahi commented. He smiled. Content, she returned back to her work.

When Shinogu propped himself back on the couch, guiding Asahi through the last problem, the clock above the television read 3:18 a.m. The last thing Shinogu remembered before letting himself drift off to sleep was Asahi pulling a blanket over him, and how funny it'd be if _she_ actually turned out to be Seiko instead, and not that little gray area that always defined their lives.

* * *

><p>AN: Shinogu's a guy. Guys think about their feelings, and they even employ rebounds to get over them sometimes. I think I added a slightly dis-likable, but realistic side to an otherwise expected nice-guy Shinogu in this chapter, what do you think? Anyway, back to Asahi's thoughts next chapter!


End file.
